La marseillaise
by eponnia
Summary: Modern AU. Enjolras is forced to participate in a sport to graduate. Though he is surprisingly adept and naturally competitive, he would much rather be debating politics. But the girl in the red dress who sings the National Anthem catches his eye. [2012 film college!Enjonine one-shot]


La marseillaise

SUMMARY: Modern AU. Enjolras is forced to participate in a sport to graduate. Though he is surprisingly adept and naturally competitive, he would much rather be debating politics. But the girl in the red dress who sings the National Anthem catches his eye. [2012 film college!Enjonine one-shot]

**AUTHOR'S NOTE: The inspiration for this one-shot was kind of random (an explanation is in the author's note at the end). This is a modern college AU based on the 2012 film. **

* * *

"There is no alternative?"

"I'm afraid not. You've provided a very good argument, I'll give you that. But even as someone at the top of the law program, you are not exempt from this requirement to graduate." The guidance counselor smiled at Enjolras. "There is a wide array of options to choose from. Let me know when you've made your decision."

Enjolras stood. "Of course."

The twenty-two-year-old left the guidance counselor's office less than pleased but attempting to resign himself to his fate. He was a law student, not an athlete; as a child, he was the one who had stayed inside with a book while the rest of his friends played outside. Even now, it took every means available to get him to participate in a sport of any kind. That was not to say he didn't engage in physical activity – he went to the gym frequently – but competitive sports did not interest him in the least. He didn't watch or involve himself in it, and it had been quite a while since he had participated in any sport, even for recreational purposes, as he was entirely focused on completing his law degree. He _had_ been admittedly stressed from course work lately, and didn't people say physical activity reduced that?

Hopefully his coaches and fellow players wouldn't expect a law student to be particularly proficient at whatever sport he joined; he would do his best but knew he would never be a star athlete. Receiving his law degree was more important.

* * *

Enjolras found himself three days later waiting on the baseball field to meet the coach.

He had chosen this particular sport because, through his research – he had definitely done research – he had learned that though baseball was popular in America, it was less so in France than the States. Therefore, less people would be on the team to view his performance and less students would end up watching the games; the practice and game fields were even in a corner of the campus few people visited.

This was not to say he was _embarrassed_ to engage in the sport, but wished only to participate to the extent required to graduate and return at the end of the season to his law studies. He did not want any strings attached.

But he found them soon enough.

"Enjolras!"

He turned to see Bahorel, grateful to see a familiar face. "What are you doing here?" his friend asked.

"I'm joining the team."

Bahorel stared at him for a moment. "You're joining the team?" he repeated.

"I have to in order to graduate," Enjolras said with a shrug.

"Ah, that explains it," Bahorel said. "Well, you've picked a good sport, _mon ami_. We don't have cheerleaders, but the entire campus isn't watching your every move."

They were interrupted by another teammate who clearly recognized Enjolras but did not comment on the law student joining the baseball team. Enjolras met the coach and practice began.

* * *

By the end of the day, Enjolras discovered he had a surprisingly good batting arm but wasn't the best catcher on the team, though he wasn't the worst either. The coach demanded nothing but the best from the team – even on the first day of practice – but wasn't cruel.

As days turned into weeks, he was surprised to find he was becoming quite competitive. But wasn't law competition in its own right, to win a case instead of a game? Law was of the mind and baseball of physical prowess, but they were both the same fundamentally.

The night before the first game, Enjolras left the field with Bahorel, throwing his bag over his shoulder and attempting to brush the dust and grass from his uniform as they walked to the team room.

"Did you hear who's singing the National Anthem?" Bahorel asked.

Enjolras shook his head. "Who?"

"Marius' friend. Éponine… Can't remember her last name."

Enjolras remembered the name and placed it with the brunette who followed Marius everywhere. "She sings?"

Bahorel shrugged. "I guess. They don't get the opera majors to sing for baseball games, but I've heard she's good. What did you get on the psychology test?"

Enjolras did not think of the girl for the rest of the night.

* * *

He sat in the dugout with the rest of the team before the game as the announcer's voice carried over the noise of the crowd. "All rise for the National Anthem, to be sung this evening by Éponine Thénardier." Everyone stood as a young woman stepped forward to the microphone before the pitcher's mound.

She wore a casual white-dotted red dress that came to her knees, the fabric hugging a slender, long frame. Dark hair, blowing slightly in the breeze, fell to her shoulders, fanning around her pleasantly appealing wide, suntanned face. Her brown eyes scanned the crowd as she stood before the microphone. Her lips parted as she drew in a breath, and a smooth voice flowed from her as she began to sing.

_Children of the Fatherland, let's go,_

_The day of glory has arrived!_

_Tyranny is against us,_

_The bloody banner is raised…_

As she continued to sing, Enjolras watched her. He had heard _La marseillaise_ hundreds of times before, but never like this; she sang each syllable as if she were the very first to give life the two-hundred-year-old words. Her voice rose and fell, swelling, diminishing, and returning to full voice with ease. As the last note hung in air, everyone present burst into applause.

As the crowd cheered, the girl ducked her head, slightly self-conscious at the praise, and a dimpled smile grew on her features as she stepped away from the microphone. As she moved towards the bleachers, she looked to the dugout and caught Enjolras' eye.

The team was readying for the game around him, but he barely noticed, his gaze transfixed on the girl. The smile on her lips grew, and her brown eyes stayed locked on his. The moment was broken as she turned as someone called her name; simultaneously, Enjolras felt a hand grip his shoulder.

"Alright there, Enjolras?" Bahorel said.

"I… yes," Enjolras replied, looking at his friend, but his gaze involuntarily moved back to the girl as she ascended the bleachers. He watched as she sat beside Marius and his girlfriend Cosette, smiling as the couple congratulated her. Her gaze moved back to Enjolras' for a moment, but he had to look away as Bahorel pulled him away to finish preparations for the game.

Their team won, and Enjolras was pulled into a celebratory group consisting of Grantaire, Combeferre, Courfeyrac, Marius, and the rest, but, as he searched for Éponine, he did not see her. He assumed she had left early but could not stop the strange pang of disappointment that pierced him.

But why was he… _disappointed_ by her absence? He had only spoken to her on occasion and barely knew her; she was merely Marius' friend who showed up to gatherings and study sessions once in a while. Logically, he shouldn't be feeling this way.

But logic apparently had nothing to do with it.

As he and Bahorel began to make their way to the team room as the evening darkness deepened, they passed by the parking lot, and Enjolras caught sight of Éponine walking past a row of cars. He felt Bahorel nudge him with his shoulder.

"Go talk to her."

"What?"

"Go talk to her. I saw you staring at her after she sang. Go ask her out."

"I'm not going to ask her out–"

"Fine. Grantaire's throwing a party this weekend. Invite her to that. Go talk to her before she leaves!" Bahorel cupped his hands around his mouth: "Hey, Éponine!" She turned immediately as Bahorel pushed Enjolras in the girl's direction. "Go!"

Enjolras felt as if his brain had suddenly turned off. _What on earth am I going to say?_ He shot Bahorel a glare over his shoulder, but his friend only gave him a smile as he approached Éponine. He was very aware his uniform was covered in dust and grass stains. Normally he wasn't obsessed with his appearance, but he normally didn't spend his time attempting to impress a girl.

Not that he was trying to impress her.

He came to her car, and she looked up expectantly. "Yes?"

"You're Marius' friend, right?" he asked, and she nodded, her smile faded a bit. "You did a good job on the National Anthem," he continued, and kicked himself immediately at how lame his words sounded. _You're a law student and you can't speak eloquently?_

"Thanks," she said with a smile.

"Well, there's a party… gathering, this weekend at Grantaire's place." He swallowed hard. "I was wondering if you were going." Enjolras was positive he had never spoken so quickly in his life.

She brushed a strand of dark hair out of her eyes. "Well, I was planning on studying this weekend, but I guess I could come." She smoothed the skirt of her dress. "So, do you want to go together, or…"

"I could pick you up," Enjolras found himself saying. "Or not. Whatever you want." _What am I doing?_

"What dorm are you in?"

"I live off campus. Grantaire does as well."

Éponine flushed. "Oh, well, I'm in Dorian Hall. The sophomore dorm."

"Dorian's not too far from Grantaire's place. I'll pick you up around… eight?"

"Sure," Éponine said with a dimpled smile.

"Well, I should probably go change…" Enjolras said, looking down at his uniform.

"I should probably head out. Oh, congratulations, by the way, on winning the game," Éponine said as she got into her car.

"Thank you."

"See you tomorrow."

"You, too."

As Éponine drove away, Enjolras felt Bahorel clap a hand on his shoulder. "So."

"I'm taking her to Grantaire's party."

Bahorel grinned. "I told you that you could do it."

"Oh, shut up."

* * *

**AUTHOR'S NOTE: This was inspired by a video I found of Samantha Barks; when she was sent out to demonstrate the earpieces used for the live singing in the film, she sang _On My Own_ for the audience with a French flag as the backdrop. It made me think, "It's like Éponine is singing the French National Anthem." Thus, this idea was born. _La marseillaise_ is the French word for their National Anthem.**

**The reason Enjolras does baseball is because football (soccer for Americans) is the most popular sport in France, and baseball is played but is not as popular as football/soccer. Also, because Aaron Tveit played for the 2011 Broadway Baseball League, which has various Broadway/Off-Broadway actors play softball against each other (why do they call it the Broadway _Baseball_ League?). I hope I did justice to Bahorel, and I also hope you enjoyed _La marseillaise_! **

**Totally random side note – I put a post on Tumblr on Saturday, asking people to reblog said post if they wanted Aaron Tveit as Fiyero in _Wicked_ film. By the next morning, 495 people had reblogged and/or liked the post. As of today, it's 513 and climbing.**


End file.
